What Comes First
by missmontana
Summary: On the anniversary of the death of someone he cared for deeply, Damon attemps to drown his sorrows at Mystic Grill, only to run into the one person he thought he never would see again. NOT a Love story. Friendship. Hurt!Damon AU - ON HIATUS
1. Pilot

Chapter 1: What Comes First

_**AN:**__ Hello duckies! I would like to announce that my AATT (after all this time) story is going on HIATUS. Yes, I know, shoot me if you want, just please don't kill me, okay? (Only if you're following me :D) I feel really positive about this story. Okay so, please enjoy and remember that I'm a review whore, so feedback would be appreciated._

_**Warnings:**__ None, just a good old story about friendship :D _

~x~

Noise. There was something calming about it. It meant that there was distraction in the world. It meant that there was no necessary need to focus on any one thing. It was the perfect backdrop for someone who didn't want think about anything at all. Some new-aged dance beat pulsed around the Grill like some sort of teenage attracting disease, the sound of the cue ball hitting the rack at the break of a game of pool, and of course, the teenage banter that filled the non-bar areas of the Grill. Yes, this was the perfect setting to distract him, Damon thought. Although it was not a very uncommon place for him to visit, it was just the thing he needed. The big, hollow boarding house was far too quiet to leave himself alone in.

Damon sauntered his way towards the bar and pulled up a stool. He didn't bother taking off his jacket - what was the point? – and ordered his usual, bourbon on the rocks.

The older Salvatore pressed the cool glass to his lips and tipped his head back, letting the magic of alcohol wash down his throat. When he wasn't feeding, this was how he passed his time. That, and killing people.

Slamming his glass down after being emptied rather quickly, he spun around in his chair and inspected the rest of Mystic Grill. Apparently there a new girl in town, a 'hot blonde' according to that Lockwood kid. She had a 'smoking bod' and an 'attitude'. Damn snorted inwardly, stupid teenage boys, always thinking about superficial things.

But then again, was he so different? Wasn't that why he was here tonight, to not get deep in thought for once, and just search for his next good fling?

Shrugging it off, he turned back around and rested his arms on the bar bench top. He ordered another bourbon and nursed it slowly this time. Nothing new in Mystic Falls. Nothing unusual or supernatural, that is. Plenty of people wandered in and out of this town, mostly people who prefer to take the scenic route and avoid city traffic.

After finishing another two drinks, barely buzzed at all, and humming along to a song he barely recognised, the vampire's hearing picked up on a change in conversation. The groups closer to the entrance of the Grill had quieted down and started whispering about the unknown stranger and he felt a presence close to that area as well.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. _Might as well check it out,_ he thought glumly to himself. Downing the last of his fourth drink, putting a fifty on the counter, he brightened up his expression and put slight hop in his step.

Wait, what? Hop in his step – damn, he must be more drunk than he thought.

He trot, yes trot, down the three steps that separated the bar from the rest of the Grill. As he approached the girl from behind, he couldn't help agree with the Lockwood kid. The new girl did have a nice body, petite if anything, but, he did enjoy playing around with the smaller ones every now and again, but she wasn't stocky. She had long legs, slight tan and bouncy blonde hair. From what he could hear, she had a wonderful laugh, like bells.

He came up and leaned on the doorframe. From a distance he heard Caroline.

"Oh look, Damon's already trying steal the new girl. Get ready for disaster control," she said, bored. He glanced up and glared, Caroline looked back to Elena. That's weird, he would have known if Vampire Barbie and Elena were here. He was out of it today…

Resuming his original mission, he put on his best cocky smile, the one all girls fall head over heels for, and relaxed his already casual stance.

"I don't believe we've met." Damon's grin grew wider.

The little blonde – truth be told, she wasn't that much shorter than him, maybe 5'6" – froze and whipped her head around like a snake. She knew she heard that voice before, but it couldn't be. Her eyes met his and everything around them practically stopped. All the chatter and socialising had quieted as they gazed deeper into each other's eyes. Her mouth dropped into a little 'o' shape and her eyes widened.

Damon did the same. His casual stance tensed, he was shocked to say the least.

"Oh, my God," he said rather breathlessly. The normally not-shaken-by-anything vampire had been speechless. _It can't be… No, it's not, just some other girl… That happens to look exactly like her. Jesus, Damon, stop staring!_

The girl blinked furiously. She straightened her posture, standing up just that little bit taller and smiled and all too familiar smile.

"Hello, Elizabeth Olivia Thomas," she held her hand out for him to shake. Her smile became one of recognition, it lit up her entire face. "It's so good to see you again, Damon."


	2. Reunion

What Comes First: Chapter 2

_**AN: **__Hey all, I wanted to shout out to _Death'sAngel18_ and _Micaila _as my first reviewers and only reviewers so far. I hope to increase that number. And I also wanted to thank you guys for checking out my story at least and virtual cookies to those who faved and alerted. Good job!_

_**Warnings:**__ Uh, there is a rather longish flashback in this chapter, so keep watch for the 'dividers'. Enjoy!_

_Damon did the same. His casual stance tensed, he was shocked to say the least._

"_Oh, my God," he said rather breathlessly. The normally not-shaken-by-anything vampire had been speechless. It can't be… No, it's not, just some other girl… That happens to look exactly like her. Jesus, Damon, stop staring!_

_The girl blinked furiously. She straightened her posture, standing up just that little bit taller and smiled and all too familiar smile._

"_Hello, Elizabeth Olivia Thomas," she held her hand out for him to shake. Her smile became one of recognition; it lit up her entire face. "It's so good to see you again, Damon." _

~x~

"Damon?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. She knew she had an effect on him, one that usually rendered him speechless… just not to this extent. She expected him to say something witty and joking to her in response, but she was taken aback when he just stared. His expression betrayed him and a flicker of emotion crossed his face for a split second before he had hidden it again.

But she didn't need to look at him for longer than a second to know exactly what it was, and, at that moment, she was grateful for having her enhanced senses. The slight drawing together of his eyebrows and how they lowered to create a shadow across his cerulean irises, his lips pulled down into a tiny grimace, as if just seeing her brought him physical strain. She decided that it was painful for him to see her like this, after for so long thinking that she was _dead_.

Yes, it was pain that he felt. The same pain she witnessed him having when she died. The same pain that she had seen him suffer through when his mother died. She was there for him when Mistress Salvatore had passed away, his rock, his steady ground. And the one time that she wasn't… She couldn't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been on him. After all, they were in it together for life.

Shaking her head mutely, her gaze had strayed to one of kindness, and a tiny smile made its way to her lips.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked, concerned.

It was Damon's turn to shake his head. Still wide-eyed and shocked, he responded with a shaky breath and knew – instinctively – that he _had_ to get out of here. This was all too much, and if he hadn't of known that everyone else in town knew that she was here, he would have definitely had said that he was delirious, hands down. This was all too much of a coincidence.

Shaking his head again, he tried for words. "No. I – I have to get out of here."

Reeling from rejection, Elizabeth's eyebrows were in her hairline, and Damon used this as his chance to escape.

"Whoa, wait – Damon!"

She followed him out to the carpark, only to discover that he had disappeared. A sinking feeling had risen its way into her chest, and she realised that she might just have lost her only chance at reconnecting with her best friend.

She couldn't help the last time she felt this way about him. It was a very long time ago – as everything about her and Damon was. Elizabeth let herself be lost in the memory, staring off into both another time and nowhere in particular…

_~MYSTIC FALLS, JULY 1864~_

It was a stifling hot summer day, and despite the fact that she had a rather large and stupid parasol, it wasn't doing any good. And the fact that she had been carrying her two large suitcases with her since getting off of the train, she'd worked up a sweat. Maybe leaning against the fence there for a rest would be okay.

After moving one of her way too heavy suitcases from the middle of the road, Elizabeth had just turned around to gather her second suitcase when someone riding a horse pounded down the dirt road right at her.

Wanting to avoid being hit by the madman on the horse, she dove into the ground, and right at the entrance of the forest. Moments later she heard a command and the horse stopped.

She stood up, and couldn't believe she had ruined her favourite – and basically her only – dress. Dusting herself, her temper rose and she thought about telling the person off. She really did like the dress, which wasn't the point. The point was that you just can't go riding around without looking at the road ahead of you – even if it was an emergency.

"Miss? Are you okay? I didn't see you there. I'm _so_ sorry—"

The young man was cut off by Elizabeth's roughness. She grabbed his shirt. "You _better_ be sorry for that!" She practically yelled. "You sure do have a nerve for riding around like a damn madman. You could have trampled me!"

He looked startled, and put his hands up in surrender. The girl before him was certainly forceful, strong-willed, he could tell. That, and the fact that she had formed a fist with her left hand, ready to throw punches if needed. Her right hand was still tightly gripped on his shirt.

Her blonde hair pinned up except for a few strays that had escaped from when she had taken a dive. Her face was distorted slightly by the glare she was giving him, but there was something incredibly familiar about it. As he looked closer, he noticed that her eyes were hazel, a very light shade of it, but there was something different about them. It was like they sparkled like a precious metal. Like gold…

_Gold._ Sudden realisation came over him as he pieced everything together; small, petite blonde with gold eyes and a temper? He only knew of one person who fit that description, and he laughed, loud and clear. She noted that it almost sounded like bells. Deep, manly bells.

"You think that almost trampling a woman is funny?" She seemed outraged at his laughter.

Shaking his head and moving a hand to remove a bowl-shaped hat from his head, which she only just realised was on there, he smiled. "Of course I don't think trampling a woman is funny – that's just wrong. I'm laughing that we didn't realised who each other was straight away. It's _you._"

This had her puzzled, but when she looked deep into his eyes, Elizabeth recognised them to be the only sky blue eyes she'd ever seen.

Her anger turned to happiness as soon as she realised it was her life-long friend.

"Oh, my God! Damon!" She almost squealed as she jumped into his arms. They stayed together in a long, happy hug. She felt the absolute joy radiate from him, and, for once, she felt bad for letting her anger get to the best of her. Normally she just didn't care who she punched. But she was far too happy right now to dwell on negative emotions.

When she finally pulled away, she couldn't remove the grin from her face. Apparently, neither could he.

"_I'm_ sorry. For snapping at you like that. I can't believe I didn't recognise you! I mean, I gave you that hat, so I should have. Damn, did I just raise a fist at _you_, of all people?" He nodded. She lowered her head so that her forehead and his chest were touching. The sun burned down on the back of her neck. "I'm so sorry for doing that. I thought you just some regular Joe…" She looked up at him expectantly, it wasn't like she was _that_ much shorter than him, three inches maybe, but she got across the effect she wanted: small and childlike – and far too cute to say mad at. Just like a child. "Am I forgiven?"

He laughed some more and nodded. He draped an arm around her shoulders and used his other arm to pick up her remaining suitcase from the middle of the road, which he had – thankfully – avoided hitting. She had some very secret and important stuff in there. She grabbed the one near the fence.

"Come on, how about we go back to my house and we can continue our reunion there?" He smiled down to her.

"Of course. And – oh! I have something for Cordelia, too. And your father…"

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "Nothing much, just some cigars and herbs. And I bought little Steffy something too." Elizabeth grinned at the childhood nickname she'd given to Damon's little brother. Truth be told, only she could call him that and not be told off about… it didn't stop Damon using it to tease him.

"Sounds like a plan."

_~PRESENT DAY~_

Elizabeth came out of her reverie and sighed. Things were so much simpler back then. Without the worry of supernatural beings and things that go-bump-in-the-night. Although, that simplicity didn't last long when she got back, she remembered. It was a mere three months later when things started fucking up.

She shook her head and started to walk away, blindly reaching for a lead that would somehow bring her to Damon, and that was when her near-hopeless efforts of single person search-party was sparked. She heard someone from the Grill making their way toward her, panting as they got closer.

"Uh, Elizabeth, right?" She turned around and regarded the teenager as the one she was speaking to before Damon had moseyed his way behind her. Elizabeth nodded. "You, uh, dropped your car keys." The girl held her hand out and the silver of the keys and key-ring glittered under the streetlight. She automatically reached her hand out and grabbed them.

She said a hasty 'thank you' and watched her instinctively walk back inside the safe confides of Mystic Grill.

Elizabeth examined the keys more closely. _Chevrolet. Aha! He has a Chevy, and the keys have no button, so it must be an older car,_ she thought.

Making sure no-one was on the streets, she ran over to the Mystic Grill parking lot at an inhuman speed. She immediately started looking for an older car and came across a few old Ford trucks, but no Chevy's. She made her way toward the far end of the lot and almost drooled.

There, in all its glory, was a _very_ looked after '68 Camaro convertible. Yes, she realised how much of a dork she sounded like, drooling over what may be one of the hottest cars she'd seen in a while, but when you see a classic, you _see a classic._ It was beautiful, and from what she could make out, had all standard fittings and metal work. Even the paint job was the factory blue. She just couldn't help herself as she walked her way to the hood. She felt excited as she lifted it – and, boy, was she agitated, she didn't know what to expect – but her non-expectations were met when she saw a 527 Big Block V8 Chevrolet engine sitting in there. _Oh, yeah. Very sexy,_ she thought.

Shaking herself, Elizabeth detached herself from the hood and went to the driver's side. She climbed in and started it up. When the grunt of the V8 rolled its way through the frame of car – she thought about it being 'very sexy' _again_ – and felt as if she'd been slapped in the face.

She didn't know where he lived.

As soon as she thought about it, images flashed through her head, showing her a big house and street names. She smiled smugly. Her gift could be _very_ convenient sometimes.

"To the Bat-cave," she muttered.

~x~

The drive was uneventful. Quite boring actually. She actually almost missed the driveway on the way in. _Stupid, stupid, Damon, you need to learn how to live closer to… people._ She eye-rolled internally.

When she got out of the car (safely in the driveway, locked, and in its rightful place), she was startled by a loud crash inside the huge estate. She didn't bother with wasting time on ogling at the house; she rushed inside, knowing that she was welcome everywhere she went, private or public.

Once inside the barely lit house, she slowed down, cautiously looking around every corner she came to. From what she could tell from the main hallway, the house was bigger than it seemed to be from the outside. She came to a halt when she reached the end of the hallway, saddened by what she saw in the stepped-down parlour.

Damon was standing there, throwing as many odds and ends he saw in his way. A cold chill came through the house, and she looked toward a broken window.

"Ah," she nodded. _That_ was where the crash came from. She looked back down to where her best friend stood. Damon was staring right at her, an incredulous look upon his face.

"No, no. This is impossible…" He was shaking his head, his voice shaky. It appeared that he was talking to himself rather than her… if she was real, that is.

She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Well, it is, and I'm here." Her expression softened, she carefully made her way down two of the stairs, only to left her foot above the third when she saw Damon's stance shift from the-weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders to look like he was going to bolt. She didn't dare move closer for the fear of chasing him off was in her midst. She didn't want that to happen.

"I'm real, Damon."

"Impossible." Elizabeth felt his emotions spike. "You can't be."

"I am."

"No, you can't! You died, Beth!"


	3. Memory Lane

04:14

What Comes First: Chapter Three

* * *

"_No, no. This is impossible…" He was shaking his head, his voice shaky. It appeared that he was talking to himself rather than her… if she was real, that is._

_She smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Well, it is, and I'm here." Her expression softened, she carefully made her way down two of the stairs, only to have left her foot above the third when she saw Damon's stance shift from the-weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders to look like he was going to bolt. She didn't dare move closer for the fear of chasing him off was in her midst._

"_I'm real, Damon."_

"_Impossible." Elizabeth felt his emotions spike. "You can't be."_

"_I am."_

"_No, you can't! You died, Beth!"_

~x~

Elizabeth sighed. Of course he was going to bring that up. Why wouldn't he? _That_ has to have contributed to the fragile state he is in right now. It was why he was broken worse than he should have been.

"I think I know that." She half-grinned, trying to lighten the mood; she claimed another step.

Sensing no change in Damon's mood, Beth frowned. Her voice became the tiniest of whispers, her expression faltered. After a few minutes of intense silence, she decided that she had deliberated enough.

"Damon, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there when you turned, I'm sorry for not being around for, like, ever. I'm sorry for not trying harder to get you away from…" she trailed off, Beth couldn't bring herself to say _her_ name, "_her_." She braved herself and flashed to him before he had time to react.

Damon noticed that she now had a fire in her eyes. She was determined to make him believe that she was real. She latched onto his shoulders. "But, Damon, I'm _not_ sorry for dying. I don't regret dying – it was one of the better things that happened to me, second to finding you again and third to _meeting_ you in the first place. I missed you."

Damon had taken a deep breath and had taken the time to go over what she said, and concluded that it eased up on his pain. His destructive mood long over, he dropped the glass paperweight and stared at her. There was one thing he needed to know, to confirm 100% that she was real.

Damon's expression became very guarded. As he stared at her, Beth realised that this next question was going to be extremely hard for him ask… and the answer would be hard for him to hear. She had a feeling that she knew the exact question he would ask, but she didn't say anything, letting him have this chance to get something – obviously heavy – off of his chest.

"I need to know why you didn't come find me. If you're really here now, then you should've found me a long, long time ago." His voice was gruff, eyes watery. _This must have been really hard for him to handle, back then and now_, she thought.

She looked down. "I don't know what to tell you…"

"Then tell me the truth." Beth's eyes snapped back you to his, she saw that ghost of his old self behind his eyes. She knew it. She knew he was in there somewhere, just buried deep down inside, under layers and layers of protective coating and a mask that hid all emotions. Even now, although Beth knew that he was showing emotion, it was small and almost undetectable.

"I did."

Shock showed through his unreadable face and Damon asked, "What?"

She rolled her eyes and disengaged her hands from Damon. She went and started picking up the things on the floor; photos, books, broken alcohol bottles and glass. There was loads of scrap here. Shaking her head and trying not to cry (because their separation always made her extremely sad when she thought about it), she said, "You know I don't repeating myself." She stood up and blew out her breath. "But I'll make an exception this time: I did. I tried to find you."

"Then how come you didn't?"

She looked away. She didn't want to put the blame onto him, but she too had to get something off of her chest. "Because…"

Damon rolled his eyes impatiently. "Because?"

Golden orbs gazed back to cerulean ones, and her answer came out harsher than she intended.

"Because you skipped town before I had the chance."

Damon narrowed his eyes, recounting back to those early days of his immortality. He remembered the pain of losing Katherine; the pain of losing his best friend; the disgust at his younger brother and his choice of lifestyle, which was ironic now, considering that he now had taken up said lifestyle; and the sadness of becoming a vampire. He never wanted things this way, not without Katherine at least, the woman he loved and the woman who threw it all back in his face.

He remembered the need to leave town, to get away from it all. He remembered telling Lexi to 'take care of his little brother'. Damon also recalled the envy directed at Stefan. He had someone to help him through their difficult journey when Damon's last lifeline died in his arms during the first day of his new life.

He shuddered at the memories. Most of them he had vowed over a bourbon to not _ever_ think of again.

"I left town because of you. Because of the things that _you_ had imprinted on me."

Beth felt mad, as in really,_ really_ mad, and she wanted to hit something right that second. "Things that _I_ had imprinted on you? Do you honestly think that I died to intentionally hurt you?" She grasped tighter on one of the things that she had picked up before. "Damn it, Damon! All I ever thought about was you! Everyday for the last one hundred and forty-odd years; how you were; where were you; how you were coping; did you miss me; how often did you think of me; did you ever return to Mystic Falls? All these questions, all the time. Every. Single. Day. "

She grit her teeth. "But to hear you say something that seems to make it _all my fault_, then – oh boy. I'm so mad." She glared at him. Beth raised her arm just enough so that it seemed like she was going to throw the object, but she didn't, and only gripped it harder. "This is _your_ fault; not mine, yours." She prodded him on the chest.

"_My_ fault?" He looked incredulous.

"Yes! See, you're finally getting it. If you only waited for an extra two days, then we wouldn't be having this argument."

His sarcastic demeanour back on, Damon sneered at his best friend. "Well, that solves everything. Now all we need is a time machine so we can go back and fix this entire mess. I'm sure they exist in your deluded fairy tale world."

Her temper spiked and she clutched her fists together harder than humanly possible. But then again, she wasn't human.

"Grow up."

Damon crossed his arms defiantly. "No. Make me."

Before he could even begin to process what happened, she had him pinned against a wall and unnecessarily gasping for air.

"You listen to me, Salvatore, and listen good. Immortality made you arrogant, and it doesn't suit you. That cockiness I saw before is only an enhanced version of the cockiness you had back then. At least morals kept you in control and you didn't sex up everything that had a vagina, unlike now, which is totally a guess. And by the look on your face right now, I hit a sore spot didn't I?"

He snorted – at least that's what she thought he did, she still had him in a chokehold. "Sore spot? Please. It's fun, I enjoy it, and sex gave me the vitality to keep moving forward." He croaked out and grinned sarcastically. At that exact moment, she felt a twinge in her heart (cliché, yes). She missed seeing the innocent, childish, lopsided smile he wore day-in and day-out when they were kids, the total opposite to what he wore now.

After a moment of calculating each other's next reactions, Elizabeth gave up and let him go. She opened up her incredibly sore fist, and saw that it was a glass shard that she picked up before. It cut deeply into her hand and she winced as she picked out tiny fragments of glass from the wound.

"You know what the funniest thing is," Beth said while still picking out miniscule fragments. The dull light was making it harder to see what she was doing. "The funniest thing is that I'm not even like what you are. Not even close. So, explain to me how I'm here; what are your theories?"

She wandered over to the alcohol table and examined the bottles that were unbroken. Whiskey, Vodka, Scotch, Peppermint Schnapps, all fun alcoholic beverages. Beth reminisced on the times she was way too drunk to remember anything, and remembered everything from those nights.

"Well," he started, his voice starting to get lighter, more relaxed. _This isn't unusual. We normally go back quizzical and curious after we fight. It's normal for us,_ she thought. "This first one is pretty simple. You could be a hallucination."

Beth snorted as she popped the lid off of the vodka. She took a swig of it before she turned her palm over and poured it over the slowly healing would. _Glass is a bitch to get rid of._

"Nope. But I appreciate the classic 'I'm seeing a dead girl from my past' line. Nice one. I'll give you points for that."

He laughed shortly. "Certainly not a hallucination, then… Witch?"

"If I were a witch, then I would have lived two to three lifespans in my one lifetime. Don't forget, they may have supernatural powers, it doesn't mean that they are totally insusceptible to contracting disease or fighting illness magically."

Damon nodded and snatched the vodka bottle from Beth's hand. He waved away her comment about it being 'rude to snatch things'. He took a drink and thought of his next response.

"Werewolf?"

"Again, I would have lived multiple lifespans."

"Vampire?"

She playfully slapped his arm; she seemed to be in a much better mood. "No," she said in a singsong voice. "I already said that I wasn't anything like you. But you might as well give up. You'll never guess."

"Oh really?" He frowned as she grabbed the bottle back. It seemed like they _both_ wanted to get really, really drunk tonight. Damon would get drunk first though; he _had_ had multiple bourbons already.

"Yes, really." She took another great swig. "Hey," Beth said as she plopped on the floor, their talk about their separation long gone, she decided it was best to move onto another topic, although this one was still about the past, just a much earlier one at that.

"Remember the day we met, Dee?" She said, trying out his old nickname. He had already called her Beth, so why not call him Dee? It _felt_ right.

"Mmm," he mumbled as he tipped his head back, the bottle of peppermint schnapps at his lips.

"Remember what we talked about that lunch?"

He tilted his head adorably in the same way he did as a child when he was confused. She thought it was really cute. "About the meal?"

She looked at him with her eyebrow raised, as if saying 'Are you for real?'

"Uh, no. I meant about the angels."

A look of dawning appeared on his face. "Oh… _That_ talk." He grinned somewhat drunkenly, she wondered absentmindedly how much of that bottle he actually just drank.

Rolling her eyes and finishing the last of the vodka bottle, she nodded. "Yeah, _that_ talk." She laughed at the memory.

Damon did too. He laughed at how she totally owned his dad in a talk about the bible – and she was only ten years old as opposed to his father's forty years. He laughed again.

_~MYSTIC FALLS 1851~_

Elizabeth gazed in wonder at her favourite animal. She couldn't get over the majestic beauty a horse possessed. She stumbled over toward the animal – Bella, she named her horse that because it meant 'beautiful', which she thought it was – and dropped the riding gear on the ground before it. She wanted to go for a ride today, it was the most perfect weather; slightly breezy but sunny and warm, and it was autumn, too, so she could just about already hear the leaves crunching under her feet.

She smiled in anticipation; she couldn't wait!

Beth had decided over the last few months that she was old enough to go riding by herself, and she was determined to prove to her uncle that she could do it all on her own, but that also meant that she had to dress and undress her horse. She sighed. This was the most boring – and troublesome – pat of the whole ordeal. Because she was only ten years old, her small frame and small strength (she didn't like to think of herself as weak, but that didn't mean that she couldn't punch like a boy) hindered her ability to do it quickly.

After about half an hour of endless struggle, she finally managed to get the saddle and blanket atop the horse. She used her uncle's wooden milking stool to give her that extra bit of height to climb the mountain of muscle and soft, silky, chestnut-coloured fur.

Kicking the reins, Elizabeth was off and away; riding the shortcut she discovered when she was about seven. Bella galloped underneath the canopy of golden and red autumn leaves, and Beth heard the satisfying crunch of them underneath the horse's hooves.

Laughing in glee at the familiar, exhilarating feeling, she had lost herself in her happiness when she realised she was riding down Millers Lane. This patch of dirt road was home to some of the more privileged families. It wasn't like she was unhappy as a simple farm girl – she loved in fact, it gave her so much freedom and vast choices (but that could also be because her uncle believe in men and women being equals) – but she had always wanted to visit some of these families' homes, just to see what it would be like. But she had decided that a life with lots of freedom and choices would be much better than any life where people do everything for you. Beth enjoyed doing things for herself.

In the distance, she heard childish laughter and gleeful squeals of other children playing with either their parents or friends. She wished that she could make friends as easily as other children her age, but all the girls at her school had left her out of their group, claiming that she was too boisterous to be with them. Beth sighed, and supposed that it was true, she _was_ pretty rough when wanted to be.

Beth had been too busy daydreaming to notice that there was a snake on the ground. Its dusty brown colouring blended in too well with the dirt road surrounding it, and although Beth didn't notice it, her horse did.

Bella screeched to a stop and started bucking on her hind legs. The mare was skittish around snakes.

"Whoa, girl! Heel!" She cried, tugging uselessly against the reins. The horse was far too agitated and edgy to listen to her mistress' commands, and started to buck harder.

Beth was bouncing on the saddle and started to get anxious. Bella had never behaved like this before.

The horse reared one final time, apparently too psyched out by the snake's presence, and kicked. The little blonde flew backwards off of her horse and landed on the road. Her head it a rock and she was afraid that she had heard something crack.

Beth fought with her eyelids, trying to stay awake, but the sleepiness won over in the end, and the last thing she remembered seeing was her chestnut-coloured horse running away into the thicket of trees; the snake long forgotten.

* * *

**AN: Hey guys! Chapter three is finally up… Uh, I'm sorry for the long update, school and getting my new laptop was pretty exciting. I'm currently typing this when I should be doing my assignments.**

**So, we learn a little bit more about Beth (Elizabeth, whatever you want to call her, but personally, I think she prefers being called by her nickname). What do you think about her? Do **_**you**_** trust her?**

**Oh, I don't think I've put one of these here yet, but Imma put one here now: DISCLAIMER: I don't own publically recognisable characters, L.J. Smith and the CW own Damon Salvatore, I only own Elizabeth Thomas. :D**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter; any questions and / or queries you might have, tell me in a review.**

**Oh, and the next chapter will still be set in Mystic Falls 1851.**

**~Simone**


	4. Blood Promise

What Comes First: Chapter Four

Blood Promise

_Bella screeched to a stop and started bucking on her hind legs. The mare was skittish around snakes._

"_Whoa, girl! Heel!" She cried, tugging uselessly against the reins. The horse was far too agitated and edgy to listen to her mistress' commands, and started to buck harder._

_Beth was bouncing on the saddle and started to get anxious. Bella had never behaved like this before._

_The horse reared one final time, apparently too psyched out by the snake's presence, and kicked. The little blonde flew backwards off of her horse and landed on the road. Her head it a rock and she was afraid that she had heard something crack._

_Beth fought with her eyelids, trying to stay awake, but the sleepiness won over in the end, and the last thing she remembered seeing was her chestnut-coloured horse running away into the thicket of trees; the snake long forgotten._

~x~

Elizabeth woke up what felt like hours later. She felt refreshed, if a little disorientated, and wondered when she fell asleep. She swore that she could feel the sun above her, the breeze still lingering in the air… It mustn't have been _that_ long that she had been asleep.

Feeling lazy, she opened her eyes, and was met with blue eyes so light, she thought that she was looking straight into the sky.

A worried look came across his face. "Miss?"

Beth was still staring. Mentally crossing herself, she replied, "Hello." She blushed.

"Hello, I'm Damon." The boy with the sky-eyes and jet-black hair smiled. She blushed again, thinking that it was cute. "Would like some help up?"

Beth nodded. "Thank you," she mumbled, taking his hand. Normally, she would have jumped up and dusted herself off before he would have had the chance to offer, but today she didn't feel normal. She felt… different, weaker, _empty_.

Once at her feet, she stumbled and almost fell. Damon caught her before she could hit the dirt. Yes, she definitely felt weak; she could barely feel her feet and her neck felt oddly sore, as if out of place. Beth didn't make a move to leave his arms when two adults – complete strangers – came to her aid.

~x~

Damon had escorted Beth inside because he thought it was best. If she really did fall off of her horse, then surely something must've been injured.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He had asked for the thousandth time. She waved away his comment. Saying that she was absolutely fine and nothing was wrong with her.

Doubting her, Damon managed to convince his mother to let her stay for lunch, but she had insisted that someone was to tend to her. After all, the little blonde _did_ have a gash on her forehead; her tiny, little bangs were matted with dirt and blood. This then led to letting his mother take her away for an hour to clean, bandage and reclothe her.

"What's your name, child?" Damon's mother asked, scrubbing a patch of dried blood out of her hair.

Beth was pretty preoccupied with trying to figure out why she felt so weird. Living on a farm for all her life you'd expect she'd be pretty well versed in the world of injuries. After all, she _is_ a female, so she's meant to be doing all the domestic duties like all the other girls her age. She should be learning from her mother about how to cook, and clean, and sew. But the was something undeniably wrong with that statement.

She blinked the water away from her eyes. It was nice having someone else look after her for once.

"Elizabeth, ma'am. Elizabeth Olivia Thomas." Just because she was a farm girl, it didn't mean that she didn't have any manners.

The scrubbing paused for a second as the older woman mulled it over. "Elizabeth Olivia… what a beautiful name," she said with a slight southern-belle accent.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name, ma'am?"

"Of course I don't mind, and you can stop with all those "ma'am" formalities. You can call me Alicia."

After Beth was bathed, Alicia had called upon a maid to fetch some bandages and a freshly ironed dress for her. It was a girly little thing. I was pink and flowing and frilly. The dress brushed the floor every time Beth took a step, and because she wasn't used to wearing such long items of clothing, she was afraid that she was going to fall over… especially down the stairs. Alicia managed to get some pink shoes that matched the dress, and urged the girl to wear them.

The only thing that looked out of place on her person – other than the dress in her opinion – was the largish bandage on Beth's forehead. She frowned at herself in the mirror. She didn't want to walk around all day with that _thing_ visible on her head, especially in front of people she didn't know.

"Excuse me, Alicia…" she trailed off, hoping that he woman could hear her tiny voice.

"Yes dear?" She replied, wrapping Beth's – now clean – clothes up in brown paper. They weren't anything special, just a pair of slacks and a white shirt. Alicia frowned when she turned back to the girl, to see her pointing to clearly visible bandage on her pretty, heart-shaped face.

"I have just the idea," Alicia said proudly, an idea forming in her head.

~x~

Damon had just sat down at the table for lunch. The girls still hadn't resurfaced and he was worried if something more happened to the girl. He still didn't know her name.

His worry had made for something humorous, in his father's opinion, and was told multiple times to "Relax, son, she'll be fine". It was hard to though. Besides, he wasn't there to see her barely being able to stand up on her own. Damon could still feel her hands on his forearms, grasping for support.

Just when he started to fidget again, his mother was descending the stairs with the girl from before behind her. She looked quite shy, and for some unknown reason, he felt as if this was highly uncharacteristic of her. This only made Damon more determined to know more about her. Being the (young) gentleman he was, he stood and pulled out a chair for the little blonde in pink. This was responded with a _very_ subtle roll of her eyes and a silly grin crossing her face.

Once everyone was settled, Beth couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable with the stares of the boy and his father upon her. She forced herself to look away, shoulders square and back straight. She never slouched.

"What's your name child?" the man asked with a firm voice. She could hear Alicia's quiet scolding, and slyly grinned to herself.

Taking a glance at Alicia's warming smile, Beth felt her regular attitude – which was her over-confidence, her boisterousness, and her ability to unfazed by many things – begin to return, making it easier to answer all of his questions. Addressing the older man and speaking loudly, she had said, "My name is Elizabeth Thomas, sir."

"And how old are you?"

Smiling smally to herself, Beth replied wittily, "Isn't impolite to ask a lady her age?"

Alicia fought hard not to laugh at her husband's stunned expression; Damon didn't. He laughed but was quickly silenced by a stern look form his father. The elder Salvatore male resumed his questioning just as lunch came on the table.

"What brings you to our home this afternoon, young lady?" He said, trying out what Beth had "titled" herself.

"My uncle allows me to go horseback riding whenever I wish. My horse is normally well behaved, she had just gotten shocked today…" She blushed. "… and I fell off. It's never happened before and it is embarrassing."

Mr Salvatore looked confused, her uncle? "What about your parents, child?"

Beth pretended that she didn't hear him, and she continued eating as if he hadn't said a word. Which he didn't in her opinion.

"Elizabeth?" She heard Alicia ask tentatively.

Beth didn't look up. She didn't want to talk about her parents. She felt a feathery light touch on her knee, looked up to see whom it belonged to and was met with encouraging, sky blue eyes.

_Damon._

"I'd rather not discuss that topic," she mumbled, taking Damon's in hers under the table. He gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked down.

"I don't see why not."

Beth looked up again and fought hard not to glare at the privileged, older male who was probably only tolerating her because his wife said so. At this moment in time, Beth could make a solid decision of which of the two adults she liked more.

"I do."

Mr Salvatore looked taken aback. He didn't expect this small, delicate little girl was capable of being defiant. Boy, did he have a lot to learn. He continued to stare her down, hoping to drag the answer out of her.

Feeling uncomfortable from the quizzical stare, Beth dropped Damon's hand scrambled away from the table, wanting to get out of the house as quickly as possible. She could get lost, she knew that, but she didn't care, she just wanted _out_.

Beth ran through countless halls and corridors, fighting against the barrage of tears threatening to flow from her eyes. She felt offended, vulnerable, hurt, sad; all because one curious man wanted to know more about the small female stranger entering his home. Alicia was nice enough, she thought. But that doesn't mean that I – I… Oh gosh, I don't know.

Elizabeth felt as if the only person she could trust wholly in that house was their son – Damon; the boy who, unnecessarily, came to her rescue, and showed warmth and concern in his contradictory ice-coloured eyes. She picked up the pace of her running as soon as she saw sunlight towards the end of another corridor and barged past a man in her haste to get away.

"Elizabeth! Wait, please!" She heard someone call from behind her. She didn't wait. Beth just kept running aimlessly through a hedge-maze at the back of the property. She knew that she was going to get lost, that much was certain, even though the hedge was barely lower than her eyes.

Somewhere in the middle of the maze, Beth just gave up. Falling rather ungracefully to her knees, she concluded that she was really out on her luck today; falling off of her favourite horse, which was now most likely halfway across the state, meeting a curious family and getting lost in their expansive estate…

Beth felt a drop of wetness on her forearm and looked up just in time to see millions more of those very same drops falling from the overcast sky.

…and getting drenched head to toe with water in a summer storm.

"Great! Just, great," she said with anger in her voice, standing up. "The perfect end to a _perfect_ day."

"It could be worse," came a young, breathless voice. Beth turned around to see Damon standing the rain with her. Immediately she became cross with the boy, he was going to ruin his good clothes.

"It doesn't matter, I have others." Beth didn't realise she had said that aloud. She flushed a bright pink and looked away.

"Do you want to tell me why you ran off? It's okay if you don't."

"No, I don't actually."

"Are… are you sure? I mean—"

"Yes. I am _certain_ that I don't want to talk about it, Damon," she said, facing him. Her sadness was slowly turning to anger.

"Okay." Damon backed off, he wasn't sure he wanted to see how she would react… but being curious by nature, he decided to push his luck just that little bit more. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me, if you want. I might be able to understand…"

"How could you?" She exploded. "How could you understand about me? You have a big house, parents that care and provide for you, huge, grassy fields for you to run and play in. You don't have to struggle to survive. You have never known what it is like to have your parents _abandon_ you when you're helpless." She stopped fighting against the tears, and let them flow. The rain was the perfect disguise. "I have never had any of the things you have… I don't even have parents…" Her voice grew softer as she spoke.

Damon felt a little bad. "You must be doing okay, though. I mean you obviously have a home."

"Not a big as yours."

"That has nothing to do with it. The only things that matter is if you have someone who loves you and that you feel safe with them." He studied her face for a moment, and saw nothing but distant, staring, golden eyes behind an emotionless mask. "You do have someone like that, don't you?"

She nodded and faintly spoke. "My uncle."

Damon cracked a small smile and strode the remaining four metres so he didn't have to speak so loud. "Then it's not all bad."

"I guess so," she said, still staring and reflecting on some memory, Damon thought. He looked down, waiting for sufficient time to pass before either one of them to end the silence that shrouded them, when an idea struck him.

Bending down to retrieve a large sharp stone from the gravel beneath their feet, Damon had gotten Elizabeth's attention. Instantly, she was curious. What did a stone have to do with anything?

"What's the stone for—" Beth didn't get the last of question out before she watched as Damon raised the stone and slashed it down the middle of his right palm. "What are you doing?" She exclaimed and grabbed the stone from him.

Damon winced as some water got into his newly cut palm. He looked her straight in the eye, "Blood Promise."

"Blood Promise? Are you kidding?"

"Quite the opposite actually."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, really? And what do you intend to promise, Master Damon?"

"Well, what I propose, Miss Elizabeth, is that we have no more moments of sadness, and we get on with our lives."

"Oh, and you just expect me to just have a _Blood Promise_ with some complete stranger?"

He rolled his eyes at her silliness. Truth be told, he knew that_ he _was the silly one. "Not just that—"

"Wow, there's more," Beth retorted sarcastically.

"—But that we should become friends…" He mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

Sighing, Damon repeated louder, "We should become friends."

Beth scrutinised him. She could detect no motion of insincerity or lie in his expression. Slowly, not leaving his eyes, she, too, brought the sharp side of the rock down the length of her right palm.

"You know, for a ten-year-old, you sure are pretty weird."

Damon shrugged. "You're beyond your years, Elizabeth."

"I could say the same, Damon."

Holding out his bleeding hand, Damon asked, "Friends, Elizabeth?"

"Friends." She clasped her own into his and she could practically feel their blood mixing. After one final shake, she pulled back her hand held it out in the rain, washing away any excess blood. She reached into her hair and pulled out the two pink ribbons that were hold her hair back and wrapped one around her gash. Damon took the other and did the same.

"So, now what?" Damon asked.

"We go home and get warm," she said, affirmative.

"Are you sure you want to go back home in this weather?"

"It won't matter. I'll be getting wet anyhow. Besides, I really do need to go, my uncle will be getting worried."

"Okay then…"

"Well, bye." Beth said and started to walk out of the maze, toward Millers Lane.

"Will I see you?"

"Sure. Around town, maybe. I know where you live, so I'll come around," she called over her shoulder and kept walking.

Reasonably satisfied with her answer, Damon hollered, "Bye Elizabeth!"

Rolling her eyes, she turned around and replied one last time.

"One more thing: Don't call me Elizabeth."

_~PRESENT DAY~_

Settled on an almost alcohol high – and that's after drinking a bottle and a half of strong Russian vodka – Beth found herself leaning her head on Damon's shoulder, subconsciously running her thumb across the place on Damon's hand where he initiated that silly little Blood Promise. And she said exactly that.

"It's your fault, you know?"

Eyes closed, and a little sleepy, Damon replied, "When isn't my fault?" Beth slapped his knee, mumbling something along the lines of "Don't say that".

"No, seriously. What's my fault?" Damon rested his head a top of hers.

"That we're friends."

"And that's a bad thing? 'Cause the last time I checked, you were okay with that."

"I still am, and you know what I mean. Besides,_ you_ were the one who went and made it all official."

"Oh really? How?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "You and your stupid Blood Promise just _had_ to go there…"

"…And back. Hey, I even got the t-shirt… Well, technically, the ribbon," Damon joked.

"Har, har." Beth stopped the rubbing and just held his hand. She didn't mind, and neither did Damon – he never had – because neither of them thought anything of it. So they sat, in an incredibly comfortable silence.

"Hey, you still haven't told me what you've been up to all these years, or in the very least, exactly _what_ you are," Damon said, ruining the moment.

"Honey, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I think I'm pretty down with the super—" Damon cut himself off yawning.

Beth giggled. "Looks like someone needs to go to bed."

"Nuh uh…" he whined.

"Yah huh. C'mon, I'll even give you a hand," she said, jumping up a little too perky and faster then Damon would've preferred. He let himself flop to the side, peeked out from under his lashes and mock glared, as if saying _What're you gonna do about it?_

"Don't give me that, cheeky. Gimme your hands." She held hers out and he just stared at them. She let it slide and started to walk away. "Fine. I see how it is. You're _obviously_ big enough and ugly enough to do it yourself. Night!" She hollered from the foyer, grabbing her cardigan from off the stand on the way.

She was almost outside too, if it weren't for the lightning fast speed that was Damon. It hadn't always been that way, you know, there was a period of time when she could beat him at any race. Rain, hail or shine.

"'Ugly enough'? Really? Ouch, Elizabeth, that really hurt. I'm cut deep." He put on a face of mock hurt; his eyes one hundred per cent playful.

Beth raised a thin, blonde brow and crossed her arms. "You'll get over it, and I thought I told you not to call me—" she shuddered "—Elizabeth."

"You'll get over it," he mimicked.

Beth mock glared at him. "Touché."

"I learned from the best."

"Why, thank you."

"I didn't mean you."

"Ouch. I thought I meant more to you."

He shrugged. Their little fight was light hearted as they always were. Still, it had been a while, so they were just warming up. Both Beth and Damon knew that they could bicker pointlessly for hours on end… sober. With alcohol, though, the bickering normally stopped not after it usually began, so Beth felt that their little mock-fight was coming to a close.

Damon's expression softened. "You don't have to go, you know." She was right. "You can stay the night here."

Uncrossing her arms, Beth replied. "I don't want to impose."

"Don't be ridiculous. There are a helluva lot of spare rooms upstairs, you can stay in any which one you please." He dropped his face closer to hers, so that to an outsider it would have looked like they were kissing or were about to. Beth knew better though and grabbed a hold of his hands again.

"I just got you back," he whispered, his sky eyes as crystal clear as they were the day she met him… and they showed exactly how he felt; desperate. It made her feel sad. "I don't want you to leave so soon."

"If that's what you want…"

He looked at her as sternly as he could manage. "I wouldn't be asking it if I didn't mean it."

"Okay," she said quietly.

Damon smiled. "Okay, then."

~x~

Beth took in the actual size of the house that her best friend now resides in. The grand architecture was, well, exactly that: grand. The twelve-foot ceilings with trims that almost looked antique; hardboard wooden floors and floor-to-ceiling wooden panelled walls in a deep earthy colour and when you looked all the way up, you could see exposed beams. A little shoddy in Beth's opinion, but then again, it added to the overall character of the mansion. She could see the appeal of living here, she thought.

"Big house," she said, stating the obvious. Damon just shrugged and opened a door that lead into a large bedroom—but then again, everything in this house was huge, go figure—with light, cream coloured walls, charcoal shaded curtains (which were probably more for usage than being décor), and what was most likely the biggest bed she had seen in her entire life.

"That bed looks like it could fit an entire sorority house in it."

Damon wiggled his eyebrows and smiled seductively. "It has."

"Ew! Gross!" Utterly revolted in that last statement, Beth gagged and rebuked him. "Dee! Did I really have to know that?"

Laughing, he claimed, "Well, you did say earlier that you wanted to catch up on all the things we've done in the last century and a half."

"Alright, alright. Now shut up and get into your sorority bed. I wanna go to sleep. It's been a long day for me."

Damon, being the cheeky character he is when he's drunk, did that all to literally. There was something he really wanted to say to her before he fell asleep, and for some reason, that was happening really, _really_ fast. It was like he had no control over it.

"Beth?"

"Yes?"

Without saying a word, he blindly reached for something on his bedside table, no lights were turned on, so he was hoping that she hadn't seen what he was reaching for. When Damon felt the cool smoothness of the letter opener, he quickly slashed it across his right palm, drawing blood faster than he did the first time he had ever done this.

"Promise me, that you'll stay. No matter how much of a jerk I am, please… I don't want you to leave never, ever again."

Shaking her head as if saying _Where are you going with this?_ and responded, "I'm not. Not ever, you need me I wouldn't—"

"No," he said, stern now and Beth could barely see the fire in his baby blues. She felt something roughly shoved in her hands. "I want you to promise me. Please?"

On further inspection, Beth discovered that it was a letter opener that seemed to be sharper than an average one. Then again a vampire lived in this house, so nothing was bound to be _just_ average.

"What do you want me to do with—" That was when she noticed blood, it was all over blade. "Really?" Damon nodded. "That's childish and stupid. No way."

"What? We've never broken the last one."

"Yes we have," Beth said the defiantly.

"Let me rephrase that, we've never broken the last one _without good reason_."

Beth didn't look pleased. Damon was serious about this. He really wanted her to make _another_ Blood Promise. Damn it.

"I hate you, you know that." Unimpressed, Beth—without second thoughts—brought the sharpened letter opener down the length of her right palm, almost on the exact same line where she cut herself with the rock. She cussed after a second or two. "Damn. That hurts like a bitch."

"Promise that you won't leave me."

"I will, but only if you promise the same thing."

"I promise," he said and clasped Beth's hand with his own and she was surprised at how cold his hand was.

After a few moments of intense (and awkward, but that was no secret) silence, Beth blurted, "So… now what?"

"We go to sleep."

"Sounds good to me."

"G'night Beth," he slurred sleepily. What was with that? He was so not ready to sleep yet. Oh well, he was too goddamn tired to worry about it now. Maybe in the morning when he's… had a… full… night's…

He broke off into soft, sleepy snores, and Beth walked backwards into the hall smiling as she watched her best friend fall into a peaceful sleep. God knows he needs it, she was glad she interfered.

"Good night, Damon," she whispered, closing the door. "Sweet dreams."

~x~

_**A/N: Hey Y'all, I'm sorry about the delay in updates. I hope 4,160-odd words makes up for it. This is, officially, the longest chapter I have ever written in any one of my stories. Seriously, this story has gotten so much love and attention from me, it better have loads of reviews. Hey, I have elective art projects to do over these autumn holidays, but no. I'm writing this for you guys…. And the fact that Elizabeth and Damon won't stop bombarding my mind… So I just have to get it out. Oh and, chapter five is being written as we speak. **_

_**I hope you have enjoyed the latest instalment of **_**What Comes First**_** and this took me forever to write, so please, review to give me feedback or criticism (negative or positive, I don't care, just so long as they're not flames). Have a great day.**_

_**xSimone**_


	5. Damage Control

What Comes First: Chapter Five

Damage Control

_**A.N/WARNING: I thought I should put this here, 'cause there is a mention of child abuse. It's not too bad, but still, child abuse is child abuse, right? So please, please, please DON'T hate me. Besides, I have a feeling that you will start to feel for Damon towards the end of the chapter. Review, okies?**_

_**Anyhow, on with the chapter!**_

_After a few moments of intense (and awkward, but that was no secret) silence, Beth blurted, "So… now what?"_

"_We go to sleep."_

"_Sounds good to me."_

"_G'night Beth," he slurred sleepily. What was with that? He was so not ready to sleep yet. Oh well, he was too goddamn tired to worry about it now. Maybe in the morning when he's… had a… full… night's…_

_He broke off into soft, sleepy snores, and Beth walked backwards into the hall smiling as she watched her best friend fall into a peaceful sleep. God knows he needs it, she was glad she interfered._

"_Good night, Damon," she whispered, closing the door. "Sweet dreams."_

~x~

Damon awoke to the feel of a soft breeze blowing at the nape of his neck, which was weird. If it was a breeze, then wouldn't he be feeling it everywhere and not just on his neck?

Opening his eyes, he was shocked to see it as a sunny day and unseasonable warm weather for this time of year. It was early spring and the seasonal changes only come every now and then or just came even and gradual… then how come it felt like summer?

He sat up and stretched his hands out in front of him noticing that he wasn't wearing his ring, which should have worried him, but it didn't. Almost instinctively, Damon knew just to relax and enjoy the weather. Wherever he was, it was summer and—miraculously—he wasn't becoming a crispy critter any time soon.

"Hello, sleepyhead."

The voice came from behind him and out of curiosity he turned to see who said that. He was greeted with a giggle, an infectious little laugh that couldn't stop him from smiling himself. On further inspection of the girl, he decided that she must surely be related to Beth, seeing as she had the same small figure, the same blonde hair and freckles too. For all he knew, this could be her twin. She never did know who her family was, save for her uncle, the only difference the two had was their eye colour. While Beth has a mysteriously cool golden colour, _this_ girl had blue eyes: sapphire-blue eyes, darker than his own.

"Why, hello there. What's your name?" he asked, in an uncharacteristically good mood.

She laughed again. "Oh, come _on_, Damon." She leant forward so that their noses were touching and looked deep into his light eyes. There was something inside those sapphire orbs that puzzled Damon. It was deep down and lurking, but not in a bad way. More like it was hidden for the purposes of a game, kinda like tag, and he was _it_.

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Everything went black…

_~x~_

Elizabeth was pretty sure she woke up well before her usual seven-to-seven-thirty A.M. call. She lazily rolled over to discover that the barely lit up digital alarm clock had read a patronising _4:39_. She rolling back over, shoving a pillow from the other side of the double bed on her head in a desperate attempt regain another three hours of sleep.

She would have succeeded too if it weren't for the annoying little fact that she was an _incredibly_ light sleeper and didn't easily fall asleep once she was awake. Beth peeked out of the corner of her eye at the alarm clock.

_4:40_.

Sighing in frustration, Beth stood up and was just about ready to throw the stupid thing out the window, but, that would wake Damon up and God knows that the boy most certainly needed the sleep. Sighing once again, she gave up almost all hope and decided that she would wallow in her own misery and read one of the many books off of the shelf in the room.

Turning on a lamp really did her eyes a wonder. Just because she had enhanced vision, didn't mean that she didn't have tired-eyes when she woke up. Besides, Damon's mother always told her that it wasn't good to read without proper light in the room. As soon as she had finished that little speech, the older woman went and lit the oil-lamp that was meant to be in Mr. Salvatore's personal study.

Unintentionally, thinking about Alicia had made Beth smile. She was a great woman, effectively being her substitute mother when Beth didn't have her own. She blindly pulled a book off of the shelf and inspected the cover.

_Wings of Fate_, it read. Beth rolled her eyes.

"Gee, Alicia. Could you be any more subtle?" She remarked sarcastically, but took it as advice. She knew what she was going to do now and thanked Alicia silently for saving her from almost dying from boredom. All she needed to do now was find a way to the roof.

_~x~_

There was a subtle smell of salt in the air, obviously from the wind that had rolled in overnight from the east, bringing a pleasant beachy smell to the woody-earthy fragrances of the Virginian forest. It was an interesting combination: night and salt, and it helped her relax enough to let go of some pent up energy—regardless of the early hour. Beth was now in a state in which she could easily slip in and out of meditation and she felt as if she had so much more control over her body and mind.

Taking in a deep breath, she started quietly chanting a few choice words in Latin that helped her connect to her spiritual side, all the while keeping deep, even breaths. Someone once told her that breathing is the key to meditation and Beth thought that that was really wise. Unfortunately, though, in the same breath he had told her that concentrating _too _hard on said breathing can also kill you. She decided then that he was insane, plain and simple, but continued to use the breathing advice that was relevant to meditation.

After a few minutes of this, Beth could feel herself lifting higher, not physically, but elsewhere, a higher place. _Her spirit_.

Her eyes flashed open to reveal a startling level of their naturally golden colour. So much so, it looked as if they were glowing rather than melting as the normally did. The speed of the wind picked up tempo around her and she stopped chanting, there was no need to, and just stood there in anticipation. An eagle flew overhead and she smiled playfully.

"_Veni_," she whispered to the animal. It swooped and landed on the edge of the roof. It wanted to fly again, but something was keeping it there. The magnificent bird was obedient, even though it naturally was a hunter and did what it wanted. Whatever was keeping it there had intrigued it greatly, and it didn't move until it was certain what it was.

Beth slowly approached the eagle with her arm held out. It sat on it and let Elizabeth stroked it gently on the head. She always had a way with animals; they _trusted_ her as much as _she_ trusted _them_, in the way of some unspoken bond. It closed its eyes as she continued to stroke it downwards, succumbing to the power she now held in her hands.

"I won't keep you too long," she cooed, her voice all too alluring. Kissing its head softly, it let out some sort of call. The bird was desperate, it knew what she wanted, and it was eager to give her what she wished. "How about a race, little fellow? Hmm? You can go after that if you want to."

The eagle wailed. The amount of energy it now possessed was almost too much for it to handle, and yet it seemed as if the animal _wanted_ to have the energy. It shot up into the air and Beth took that as her cue to follow.

"_Alis_!" She yelled gleefully as a brilliant light created two very big shapes behind her back. Then she, too, shot up into the air resembling something that looked very, _very_ much like a firework, and began to chase the eagle, laughing from the feeling of wind untangling her already messy hair from its makeshift ponytail.

She decided that she would go lower, into the canopy of the trees to test herself and see if her reflexes were as good as they were the last time she used her _alis_. As she ducked and dodged, she pondered the idea of bringing Damon with her the next time she decided to fly—which, she decided that she would do that very, very soon—and quickly decided against it. He wasn't to go flying until he figured out what she was.

While pondering this, she hadn't seen the huge oak tree that was quickly approaching her and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid colliding with it George-of-the-Jungle style. Beth would have sworn that she heard the eagle version of a laugh coming from above her.

It was _on_.

_~x~_

When Beth had finally walked back in the door to the Salvatore mansion, she was still filled to the brim with exhilaration. She was so… enthralled with the prospect of racing a freaking bird—like, wow, it was amazing, it took her through the clouds—that she hardly noticed Damon coming down the stairs.

"Mornin' Damon," she exclaimed, still excited… she hoped he wouldn't notice, but her hope was wasted anyway, because Damon just walked right past her, towards the kitchen. "Have a good sleep?"

"It was fine until that girl..." He shook his head. "Well, let's just say that it was weird, and leave it at that."

This confused Beth: what girl?

"What girl are you—" she stopped when she saw him glance at her like _Please don't_. "Okay… You hungry?" She said instead as they walked into the kitchen.

"Not in the way you're thinking."

"What?... Oh, right. Wow, I'm out of it this morning, sorry." She smiled in an embarrassed way.

Damon just stopped and turned to stare at her and for a second there he would have sworn that her eyes were the exact same colour of the girl in the dream; deep, sapphire blue.

"Are you okay, Beth? I mean… your eyes…"

Beth became worried, were her eyes still glowing? Could Damon know about her morning out? She didn't want to give him the answer straight away; she wanted him to figure out what she was. Sure, she felt bad about not telling him, but he was a big boy now, he can think for himself… But, if Damon's life _everyday_ is much like it was last night, then she wasn't so sure.

"No, no! There's nothing with my eyes, at least, I don't think there is." _Shut up you fool._ Giving herself a mental slap Beth continued, "I'm gonna have a shower, you should go back to bed, it's real early."

He snorted at both her silliness and his own. "You're kidding, right? Dude, it's like, seven-thirty, a perfectly respectable time to wake up. But you're right about one thing though, a shower sounds great."

"Okay, then. You want me to fix you something?"

He smiled. "No, thank you. I'll just go to the basement," Damon said with a tone like _You really wanna know?_

"I'm not gonna ask." Then she left in search of a bathroom.

_~x~_

When Beth had finally resurfaced from having a shower (using Damon's ensuite, which, too, was also very big) she was towel drying her hair because over the years (and that's a lot of years) she found that is what works best with her impossibly straight hair. It never curled. Not even in the days when all you could have was curly hair. Sure she tried using hot curlers, curling irons and mousse but none of it worked. Ever. It would just drop out.

So as she was caught in her musings, she didn't realise that there was another person in the hallway. Still towel drying her hair and staring at nothing in particular, she walked into the person with enough force to knock them both over. And that's exactly what happened, and unfortunately, if Beth didn't regain her balance soon, she was going to end up as a big pile at the foot of the stairs.

Just in time, a pair of lightning fast, muscled arms caught Beth. She was greeted with a small laugh and a set of kind green eyes.

"Careful, you wouldn't want to hurt yourself," said a familiar voice. _Dammit! Who are you?_ She stared up at the soft, green eyes again felt her brow furrow as she was searching for a name to match those eyes. That's how she remembered who people were, by remembering their eyes. Call it weird if you will, but that's just how she was. Maybe it had something to do with the saying 'The eyes are the window to the soul'. Beth felt as if she hadn't seen those eyes since her human days…

Oh, my God, she thought. No way. It was bad enough that that bitch had gotten to Damon, but Stefan too? Dear Lord, I have _a lot_ of catching up to do.

With a small grin on her face, she replied cheekily, "No, it wouldn't, would it, Stefan?"

Taken aback by her comment, Stefan's relaxed expression became confused. _Who...?_

"Elizabeth?" he asked, unsure.

"Hi, Steffy."

_~x~_

When _Damon_ had finished _his_ shower—upset at the fact that he had to shower in the guest bathroom because Beth decided to use his—all he heard was the dull _hum_ from kitchen appliances and laughter, and became confused. He understood the use of the kitchen appliances—he already went through that with Beth last night, she wasn't a vampire—and she was most likely preparing herself something to eat. But the laughter had him stumped. Why would she be laughing at herself (then again, who knew what went on in that head of hers)?

Then Damon listened closer as he pulled on a pair of jeans in his room; there was a contrast in the noise, a higher pitched laugh—sort of like bells—and then there was a baritone, and, knowing Beth, she wouldn't just invite any random guy over without asking Damon first. So that only meant one thing.

Throwing his towel on the floor of his walk-in wardrobe, he grabbed a random polo shirt—since when did he have a polo?—and went casually down the stairs to investigate.

Beth laughed again. "Oh, really? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, it was kind of adorable, actually," came the response from his little brother. Casually leaning on the doorframe, Damon crossed his arms waiting to be acknowledged. They seemed to be having a good time… without him and Damon couldn't help but feel a little excluded.

Beth looked up from whatever she was chopping and her smile got bigger. "Well, well, speak of the devil. We were just talking about you." She went back to chopping some… white chocolate? What on earth…

"About what?" He asked, faux pleasant.

"Don't be like that," she scolded while Stefan said, "Nothing really. Just some tall tales, I guess."

Damon narrowed his eyes at the younger Salvatore. "Uh-huh." Stefan most likely gave away some secret, but, it was just Beth, so he didn't really care and therefore, there was no real need to do what he was doing.

Then again, he _did_ have a reputation to uphold and he didn't want Stefan to think that he's gone soft.

"So, sunshine," Beth said, addressing him. "Would you like some pancakes? I know you already ate, but I thought it would be nice."

He quirked an eyebrow, Beth was cooking? He thought that she gave that up years ago, like the whole animal thing, but if she cooking… He couldn't help but let his mind take them back to when they were teenagers and in the maid's quarters where the kitchen was. Beth would often bring some of the produce that she grew on the farm where she lived and made both Damon and Stefan different stews and soups that were to-die-for. If she made extra, she'd save some for their father, no matter how much she thought he was an ass. That's just the kind of person she is.

Being jolted back to the present by her, "Damon?" he nodded.

"That'd be nice."

In the end, Beth, somehow, managed to make about two and a half dozen pancake from the meagre supply of food they actually kept in the boarding house and even, at one point, managed to scold them about it.

"You know, if you want me to continue to make you boys delicious food, then you're gonna have to replenish your supply of ingredients," she tusked and shook her head while looking at their anorexic pantry and fridge. "I mean, seriously. Don't you two ever get the munchies for something other than blood?" The way she said was so casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, but Damon noticed the little reflexive crinkle around her eyes that said she wasn't exactly thrilled about it. He wondered why.

"Sorry, Beth," the brothers said in unison, falling back so easily into old patterns, and quite frankly, it scared Damon a little.

If the sheer miracle of Beth managing to make that many pancakes alone wasn't enough, she had been cutting up the white chocolate to make a smooth sauce to poor over the top of the pancakes, and where she got the strawberries from, Damon didn't have a clue.

Sitting at the meals table with a very deluxe version of a simple meal, Beth inquired, "So, either of you boys involved in a relationship?" It was genuine curiousity masked by a light, chatty tone.

"Yes."

"I wish."

Glancing up from her plate, she caught Damon with a narrowed-eyed gaze at Stefan who was, more unlikely than not, oblivious to his brother's hard stare and kept munching away at his breakfast. She kicked Damon under the table and he turned and glared at her. She glared back. _Be nice_, it said. He looked away.

"So, Steffy, you wanna tell me about her?" She asked cheerfully while still inspecting Damon.

"Uh, well, her name is Elena," he said innocently.

"Is she pretty?"

Beth noticed that Damon's hands clenched tighter around his knife and fork. Why was he so tense?

"Beautiful."

What's with the short answers? Beth hoped that she excite more of a response from either of them with her next question. She just hoped she wouldn't word it wrong. "Is she… is Elena, uh, different to your last… girlfriend?" _Please don't hate me, please don't hate me_, she chanted internally.

"Completely," Stefan started, knowing exactly who she was referring to. "She's so kind and always thinking of others before herself. But in other ways she's… similar."

"Just you wait till you meet her. You'll see how similar Elena really is," Damon retorted sarcastically.

"Damon…" Stefan started.

"What? She asked, I answered. Just because she's _your_ girlfriend doesn't mean that I can't go through a process of approval. I may be a jackass, but I still have a responsibility as your older brother."

"Yes, and that responsibility was given up years ago."

"Well, I'm _sorry_ for wanting to be apart of your life again, you are family after all."

"Didn't seem that way a year ago," Stefan muttered.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Whatever, brother."

Beth watched as the boys argued and _really_ started considering what she really missed out on, and apparently, it was a lot. Swallowing the last bite of her pancakes, she looked back at the brothers and noticed that the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Wow," was all she said and they both looked at her. She opened her mouth to speak again but Damon cut her off.

"Don't go there."

"Why?"

_And she goes there. Uncanny_. The thought emanated from Damon, dripping with sarcasm, and she was almost sorry for peeping into his mind, and to accompany the thought, Damon pushed out his chair and left the kitchen a huff, making his way—most likely—to the parlour where she found him last night.

"Alright, then." She offered the plate to a very broody looking Stefan.

"No, thank you," he said and left as well.

"Alright, then," she repeated on a sigh and went to work cleaning the kitchen. "So much for breakfast."

_~x~_

She found Stefan in his room, and she noted that a lot of the items he possessed were trinkety and kind of patronising to his life. Beth couldn't help but let loose a small laugh when she saw one of those dancing cacti with the maracas and a sombrero that said _Mexico_, and when you clapped they started dancing.

"I got that on a last minute trip to Mexico with my friend Lexi about seventeen years ago," came the start of Stefan's explanation, and Beth could hear the smile in his voice. "She said that she borrowed a friend of hers' daylight ring for a few days and wanted to go somewhere sunny. In the end, we ended up spending all weekend drinking tequila and buying sombreros. I got into so much trouble with that girl over the years. She's my best friend."

"She sounds like a party."

"Yeah, you two would have gotten along well," he said with an edge of sadness. The next second, Beth was standing next to him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"When did she die?" She asked out of the blue, and Stefan was a little taken aback by the question. He didn't remember saying anything about her being dead… did he? No, he was sure he didn't, but the thing that probably shocked him the most was the question itself. Beth asked _when_ not _how_ and Stefan forgot how intuitive she was.

"Last year," he said, keeping his voice even. He didn't want to delve into too much information, knowing that if he told her _how_ Lexi died, Beth would surely disbelieve him, no matter how many times he told her the truth. He was silently thankful that she didn't ask him to elaborate.

Careful to divert the topic, Beth gave Stefan another tiny squeeze and held up a dish. It was clear-wrapped but Stefan could still make out what lay beneath the wrap: pancakes.

"Seeing as it's still rather early, and my pancakes are still warm, I thought that you would like to take the left overs to Elena's house." She smiled up at him and Beth felt so much smaller next to Stefan than when she's next Damon, and she's always felt that way. She didn't understand why, the younger of the two was only an inch taller than the other, but she decided to ponder it another time.

"Anyway, I thought that she could have more of a good time at breakfast than we did. Though I'm not saying our breakfast wasn't fun, because it was. It was _super_," she said in a totally fake teenage way that earned her a small smile from the youngest Salvatore. "Go get her, tiger, while I do some damage control. Oh, and tell me if I won her over with my fluffy, little delights."

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?" She feigned innocence with a smile.

"Chasing around after Damon. I'll feel horrible if I let you do that, especially since you only just got back in town," he said with a frown.

Beth rolled her eyes. "Stefan, you've obviously forgotten how long I've been dealing with Damon's shit. Don't worry. I'll handle it. 'Sides, you should have seen what happened last night."

Stefan's brow puckered in a totally adorable way. "If you're sure…"

"Stefan! Geez! Go to your girlfriend's house now before I take you there myself." She pointed at the door to the hallway with an expression that almost dared him to challenge her. He obeyed, only momentarily pausing to lean down and kiss her on the cheek.

"What…?" she started.

He shushed her. "Thanks, for everything and more. I missed you, big sis."

_~x~_

Damage control normally consisted of finding Damon, making sure he didn't act rashly and then somehow getting him to come down from his emotional wave. Sure sometimes Beth let him ride out those emotional waves until he found himself on steady land again, but other times she just had to get him down before he did something that would have _more_ than regret to deal with as the aftermath. She remembered the first time she ever had to do this…

_~MYSTIC FALLS 1854, DECEMBER~_

It was the day after Alicia had died and Beth was making her way up the Salvatore's path to their mansion. She was here to pay her respects and felt that this was least she could do for Alicia considering that for the last three years she had been a substitute mother for her.

Walking inside the door with sad, glassy eyes, Beth was desperately in search of Damon. She knew how close he was to her, so her death must really have shaken him hard and found herself worrying about him as the closer she got to Mr. Salvatore's study.

"How dare you use that tone with me, _boy_!" Mr. Salvatore's voice rang out with rash severity and Beth found herself picking up the pace to get to the study. She stopped short when she saw Damon and his father in the hallway just before his private quarters. Bet found herself gaping as she watched the backhanded strike from the older man colliding with the cowering boy's face. Damon's head whipped around from the force of the strike and found himself face-to-face with his best friend. He quickly averted his eyes.

Before she time to register, she had found her feet moving to run in front of Damon to shield him from further attack, arms spread wide.

"And how dare _you_ hit your own child?" She retorted, her face turning into one of angry determination.

Mr. Salvatore glared. "Stay out of this, child. You should not get yourself involved."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I will not allow you to endanger your son again," she said, blindly grasping for Damon's hand to try and quiet his whimpering. She was furious. How _dare_ he hit his own son? That's cowardice, she thought.

"That's not your choice to make. I'm his father and can do what I wish with him!" The man's rose louder and louder with each coming word. If he was trying to scare her into backing down, then boy, did he have a lot to learn.

"Do you think that Alicia would want this?" She challenged.

"Beth, don't," Damon's voice came shaky and breathless from behind her, pleading with her before _someone_ did something that they would regret and pulled her back.

"Get out," was all that came from the older man. "Get out of my house. Both of you."

"Fine. Come on, Damon, let's go."

They walked through the house quickly. Forget paying respects to that—that monster, she thought, he can go to Hell. She sighed aloud. Oh gosh, Alicia, I wish you were here.

Making their way across the lawn, Beth stopped and turned to face her—obviously defeated—best friend, giving him a once over and felt her anger flare.

"That bastard," she spat through tight teeth.

"Beth, whatever it is, it's nothing. I'm fine, I'm okay," he whispered, averting his eyes. He felt so ashamed. He wished he could be more like her, brave and strong-willed, but he wasn't. He was weak and grieving and could never show the courage that she could. He envied and idolised her at the same time.

"It's obviously not okay, Dee," she stated. "Look, your face—it's bleeding. He _hurt_ you, Damon, and yet you're defending him?"

"I'm sorry."

She sighed. "Dee, don't apologise to me. You just need to stand up for self better, that's all."

"How? I'm not like you, Beth, so how do you expect me do that? I'm not as brave or as strong as you are."

She rolled her eyes, sighed and gently clasped his face in her hands, subtly forcing him to look her in the eye. "It doesn't matter, you know that. Now, remember what we promised?" She sent a gentle hint to look at her right palm. He did and nodded. "Good, so how about we go back to my house for a while, clean you up and I'll teach you how to throw a punch."

He shook her hands off nonchalantly and gave her his best grin. "I'm a male. I know how to punch."

"Have you ever done it before?"

"Shut up." He hit her shoulder.

She laughed. "Right, and that was meant to hurt?"

He rolled his eyes and took her hand, blushing slightly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything."

_~MYSTIC FALLS, PRESENT DAY~_

Shaking her head at the memory, she pulled on her shoes and was getting ready to leave the boarding house. She'd already checked the parlour and found that it was undisturbed—sorry—undisturbed _from last night_, meaning no one had gone in there to clean it up. Being the nice person she was, went in there and gave it a massive clean up, taking her less than ten minutes to put everything in their assumed places and cleaned up all of the broken glass and empty alcohol bottles.

She left the house with a frown, was she meant to lock the doors? It was a vampire's house and a fair way from the road, so they mustn't get a lot of visitors; therefore, no one really knew where they lived and no one could rob their home.

She shook her head at her silliness all the way to town after that. (She walked, of course, because Damon took the Camaro and she saw Stefan drive away in a classic red car. It was... cute. That was the only word that she could put to it. Oh, and it was just so _Stefan_.)

"If I were Damon and was looking for a place to lose myself after a tense five minutes this morning with my brother and best friend, where would I go?" She asked herself rhetorically looking around the middle of town for the Camaro, and she found it… parked right outside the Grill. "To the bar, of course. Duh."

When she walked in the doors of Mystic Grill (seriously, what was so _mystic_ about this town?) she saw Damon straight away, and apparently, he must have seen her too, judging but the visible slump of his shoulders.

"Dude, it's like, eight-thirty or something," Beth said in his ear after she dashed across the room without anyone noticing. "Don't you think it's a little early for Jack?"

He pulled a face. "Not you again," he said she sat down. "What do you want?"

"To talk," she replied nonchalantly. "I wanna know why the hell you made a beeline for the bar."

"Simple. We were out at home," he said, taking a sip from his glass. She snatched it away from him. "Why would you do that?"

"'Cause it's way too early," Beth scolded.

"Yeah, well, it's five pm somewhere," he muttered, unimpressed. Beth rolled her eyes at him. He sounded like some spoilt kid who had his candy taken away from him for the first time.

"What can I getcha?" Came the bartender's uninterested voice. Something seemed wrong about it. She sent out a small brain-probe and saw that there was some confusion in the bartender's thoughts. Clearing it out, she replied,

"I'll have a coffee, thanks," and in the same breath but quieter, _"You used compulsion just so you could a drink without questions? Dude, so uncool."_

"_What? I didn't want the hassle. So sue me,"_ Damon replied just as quiet.

"Yeah, well, try ordering something like a regular human being. You're lucky that I can undo the effects of freaking compulsion."

"Newsflash: I'm not human. And neither are you, so why bother?"

"I'm so not having this conversation with you right now."

"Whatever."

"Whatever, yourself." Beth glared, and it only seemed intensified but his sudden laugh. "What?"

"We bicker like an old married couple." Damon laughed again.

"Honey, we've known each other long enough. Thanks," she said as her coffee came. She took a sip and her tastebuds were practically sighing in relief at the familiar flavour. It was a pretty good blend for a small town, if you asked her, the kind of mix you'd expect to get in a 3-star New York City café. She settled further into her seat. "So, you want to explain to me what happened this morning?"

"Not really." He started fiddling with his coaster. He was bored, and that rarely ever happened with her around. "Long story for another time. Besides, I'd rather feel better have _that_ conversation when we're drunk." Damon stared at her pointedly and a smirk played it's way onto his lips and Beth knew he was just about to charm her. Dude needed to update his playbook. "But I'd just _love_ to talk about those little nifty powers of yours."

Beth's eyes narrowed and a smile grin spread slowly across her face. "Why? So can guess incorrectly again?"

He leaned his head towards hers. "No, I was actually hoping that you'd just tell me. You know, a little heart to heart. We could trade stories if you'd like. What you are for why I was so tense before. Could be like old times."

"And what good will that bring me?"

They scrutinised each other some more, Beth suspecting that he hadn't have had a comeback for that. She was rewarded when he pulled back and said, "Well played."

She smiled cheekily, "I learnt from the best."

"Thank you for appreciating my talents," Damon replied nodding.

Beth shrugged. "It's not hard. Flirting is probably the one thing that you're good at."

This time Damon had a good retort, but just as he opened his mouth to verbalise it, two more bodies walked into Grill and he tried so very hard not to sigh in frustration. He was just starting to have fun, too, but Stefan and his girlfriend just _had_ to choose now to find him.

"Damn fun police. Guess who's just arrived, Miss Elizabeth," he said the words so that they were dripping with sarcasm. He placed he head on one of his hands.

"Who?" Beth inquired as she turned around and looked at the door to see who had just arrived. And, boy, was she in for a shock. She fought hard to remain seated.

"Stefan and his always lovely girlfriend, Elena."

_~x~_

_**A/N: Boy! That chapter, by far, is the longest one ever. No joke, taking the lead at nearly 6,000 words. Ladies and Gentlemen, WCF chapter five! (applaud)… Anyhow! I'd just like to say thanks to all those that read and review (even though there's not many of you that review, but I digress). I would like to state again that this story is obviously loved by me a helluva lot more than any other fic I have written.**_

_**I would also like to say that I am currently OBSESSED with SPN. (for those who do not know what SPN is, should be ashamed of themselves.) SUPERNATURAL is so freaking awesome—I swear! I guess I only really watch is for Jensen Ackles and the Impala and all the things that could be done to me IN the Impala (stop is Simone, you're 15! Naughty!)… Anyway, I'm currently writing an SPN fic (Winsister fic, not sure if I'm up to the task of creating a Wincest fic yet, BUT I WILL!)**_

_**Anyway, that should be all. I'm going to leave you now so y'all can get on with your lives but before you go, can you please leave a review to make this review-whore happy?**_

_**Love y'all,**_

_**xSimone.**_


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